第77章(1/5)
“Yes, and he did well. Now I understand what it all means and so does Zametov. … Well, the fact is, Rodya … the point is … I am a little drunk now. … But that’s … no matter … the point is that this idea … you understand? was just being hatched in their brains … you understand? That is, no one ventured to say it aloud, because the idea is too absurd and especially since the arrest of that painter, that bubble’s burst and gone for ever. But why are they such fools? I gave Zametov a bit of a thrashing at the time— that’s between ourselves, brother; please don’t let out a hint that you know of it; I’ve noticed he is a ticklish subject; it was at Luise Ivanovna’s. But to-day, to-day it’s all cleared up. That Ilya Petrovitch is at the bottom of it! He took advantage of your fainting at the police station, but he is ashamed of it himself now; I know that …”
Raskolnikov listened greedily. Razumihin was drunk enough to talk too freely.
“I fainted then because it was so close and the smell of paint,” said Raskolnikov.
“No need to explain that! And it wasn’t the paint only: the fever had been coming on for a month; Zossimov testifies to that! But how crushed that boy is now, you wouldn’t believe! ‘I am not worth his little finger,’ he says. Yours, he means. He has good feelings at times, brother. But the lesson, the lesson you gave him to-day in the Palais de Cristal, that was too good for anything! You frightened him at first, you know, he nearly went into c-->>